


Sonnez Les Matines

by honiedpanda4



Category: Nursery Rhymes & Songs
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Gratuitous French for Absolutely No Reason, Meet-Cute, SO MUCH FLUFF, Why Yes! They are PoC! How Nice of You to Notice!, sleep-talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:02:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329849
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honiedpanda4/pseuds/honiedpanda4
Summary: Frere Jacques- Brother JacquesFrere Jacques, Frere Jacques (Brother John, Brother John)Dormez-vous? Dormez-vous? (Are you sleeping? Are you sleeping?)Sonnez les matines, sonnez les matines (The morning bells are ringing, the morning bells are ringing)Ding, ding, dong.Ding, ding, dong.
Relationships: Little Miss Muffet/Frere Jacques
Kudos: 1
Collections: Fanfic Roulette 2020 Round 3





	Sonnez Les Matines

Little Miss Muffet

Sat on a tuffet, 

Eating her curds and whey;

There came a big spider,

Who sat down beside her

And frightened Miss Muffet away.

She ran until her legs felt like jelly. She had lost track of where she was going, huffing and puffing to get her breath back. She stood on a simple dirt road meandering through the hills, the outskirts of town so far behind her she could no longer see it. She was much less afraid of being alone and lost than she was of that spider, but a prickle ran up her spine at the thought of what her father might say. _Father warned me not to stray too far. I’m supposed to be home by sundown. He’ll go mad if he finds out about this…_

She spotted someone lying near a tree in the grass up ahead. She trudged up the hill, straightening her skirts, pushing her hair back, and tightening her bonnet. A boy around her age laid in the grass, his hat shielding his eyes from the sun. His skin was the color of the tanner’s hides; it was no wonder he chose to rest in the shade of a tree

“Excusez moi,” she said as she neared. He did not stir. She frowned a little, standing at his side. Her shadow fell over his sleeping form. “Excusez moi,” she repeated. A snore escaped him. She cocked her head to the side, pouting a bit. _A deep sleeper, I suppose._ She spotted a Bible beneath his hand. She carefully extracted it, opening the cover. The name Jacques was scribbled in chicken-scratch handwriting within. She placed it back down where she’d found it, tapping his shoulder. “Frere Jacques? Frere Jacques?” Still, he did not arise. She nudged his side a bit. “Dormez-vous?” she asked teasingly. 

“Dormez-vous,” he mumbled back. She suppressed a giggle. _And a sleep talker!_

The boy slept on. She stooped down to get a closer look. _Perhaps he’s a boy from town? Or maybe an orphan from the friary? Please don’t be a hapless traveler, I beg of you. I just need help getting back…_ She spotted a wooden cross tied 'round his neck. It matched the ones she’d seen on boys in the village before. _From the friary, then. He’ll surely know the way back to town. But how do I wake him…?_

“Pascal…!” he grumbled. She tapped her fingers against her pursed lips. _Ah! I know!_

“Sonnez les matines!” she said urgently. “Sonnez les matines!” 

Finally, he jerked awake. But, blinded as he was by his own hat, he rose too sharply. The sound of their heads clashing was not unlike the _clop_ of a horse’s hoof.

She tumbled backward, holding her forehead.

“OW!” she cried. 

“Oh dear, oh my! Mademoiselle, are you alright?

“Oh, goodness! You really ought not sleep outside like that! Why, you’d sleep through a lightning strike!” she admonished as she sat back up. The gasp that left her was soft, hopefully soft enough that he hadn’t heard. Curly hair hung loose before large brown eyes, some of it pushed back by the rough hand that had jumped to cover the quickly-reddening spot on his own forehead. He had lashes to rival the prettiest ladies'. She found herself suddenly speechless. _He is no ordinary boy, for certain. Oh my Lord, how Father will react when I bring_ _him_ _home…_

___

  
  


Jacques had wandered away from the friary on a whim. It had started with following a butterfly. And then he’d seen an interesting bird. And then he happened upon a field of dandelions, so he stopped to pick a few and tucked them safely in the band of his hat. By the time he reached the tree atop this hill, he’d been tired. He looked to the sun for the time, and realized he was missing his lessons. _Uh-oh_. He sat down to read through the passages in his Bible, knowing that when he returned there would be a pop quiz waiting for him. But the wind whispered sweet nothings to him, and the grass was soft as carpet beneath him, and the tree was sturdy and reliable. It had been easy to say _I’ll just take a short break_ and close his eyes a moment. It had been so easy to fall deeply asleep.

He was dreaming about being back within the friary’s gates. He was helping his friend Jean Claude herd cats. They were not very cooperative, as cats are wont to be. In the dream, he had turned to his other friend, Pascal, who was leaning against the fence watching them.

“Dormez-vous?” he’d accused. “Come and help us!” Pascal had laughed, beginning to float up toward the sky, his body becoming transparent so Jacques could see the clouds through him. “Pascal, wait! Wait!”

The next thing he knew, a woman’s scream was in his ear, and he jolted awake only to collide with something hard. 

“OW!” she cried. He scraped his hat away from his face, dandelions fluttering to the ground. A girl in a pink frock, about his age, laid on the ground, clutching her head. His heart jumped straight into his throat. _Oh no! Those are the clothes of a lady! A_ _real_ _lady, not a simple village girl! What have I done?!_

“Oh dear, oh my! Mademoiselle, are you alright?

He did not hear what she said next. Midnight eyes sparkled within an amber face, glowing bronze with good health. A sea of tight, black curls with bluish hue of dusk spilled forth from behind her bonnet, reaching to her elbows as she pushed herself back up. Her dress was twilight pink. He felt as if he were looking at the sky incarnate, in all its most beautiful states. He looked at the dandelions scattered across the ground. He picked a few back up, thrusting them out to her in one shaky fist.

“I give you my deepest apologies, Mademoiselle. I only wish I had a flower befitting your beauty to give you as well. Please accept these as an offering of peace.”

She smiled with a radiance to rival the sun. He felt dazed. _Perhaps I hit my head far harder than I thought…_

“Of course, Frere Jacques.” His face burned.

“How do you know my name? Oh! Have we met before? I’m so very sorr-”

“No, no. Fear not. We’ve never met. I simply read the name inscribed in your Book.” He looked down. Sure enough, the Bible was still under his palm. He chuckled nervously, scratching at the back of his head.

“Of course. How silly of me. You are so very clever, Miss….” He trailed off. She smiled again. His heart nearly thumped right out of his chest.

“Patience Moffat,” she introduced, standing and giving a curtsey. He hurriedly stood and bowed to her, but his knapsack opened in the process and spilled more books on the ground.

“Ah! Oh dear!”

“Oh, that’s alright. Allow me to…”

She trailed off, one of her hands resting on his while she turned over one of the books. _I might faint. Oh my Lord, she’s so pretty…_ Patience’s curious, furrowed brows arched as she smiled once more.

“Why, I recognize this book! And that! Are you studying medicine, Frere Jacques?” 

If he thought his cheeks were burning before, they were ablaze by now. 

“Well, er, not, uh… formally. The Brothers don’t know. But I want to learn. I am desperate to understand!” Patience giggled. 

“Such enthusiasm! So different from your repose.” He resisted the urge to cover his face with embarrassment. “I jest, Frere Jacques.”  
“Please, just Jacques.”

“Very well, ‘Just Jacques’.” He nudged her teasingly, his shame broken by her playfulness. “Now tell me, ‘Just Jacques’. You surely go into town on occasion. Why not study with the physician there?”

He soured instantly.

“Dr. Brodeur will only take an apprentice whose family can support him. Seeing as I have none, and the Brothers cannot- and, in fact, would not- support me in such an endeavor, I have few options.” He studied her face. _She doesn’t sound like she’s from here. A visitor, maybe. I suppose it’s safe to tell her…_ “In truth, Patience, I have been saving every spare coin to leave the friary. I wish to study, and for that I will clearly need to go away.” She nodded, and a mischievous grin began to curl at the edges of her lips.

“Well, Jacques, it seems you’re in luck. I’m visiting here with my father, a physician, who has been talking lately of taking on an apprentice. He’s at the age now where retirement seems to loom just around the corner. I could take you to him, if you’d like, and if he accepts, you could accompany us back home in one week’s time.” He gasped, opening his mouth to answer, but she interrupted him swiftly. “Of course, I’ll only do that if…”

The suspense was intentional, and it ate him alive.

“Oh please, Mademoiselle, I’ll do anything. Say the word!” Her grin grew deeper. Stars glittered in her eyes.

“If you escort me back to my uncle’s residence, where my father and I are staying.” He blinked.

“That’s all?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you like more? Oh! We could do it as the Greeks once did, with the Twelve Labors of Heracles-!”  
“Oh, no, Miss, please! I am happy to escort you! Would you like to go now? Or later? Whenever you wish, my lady!”

She raised a brow.

“Lady?” she echoed. She laughed heartily. It chimed like a bell. “No, no, Jacques. You’re surely mistaken.”

“You are a lady if ever I saw one,” he insisted. Her eyes widened, and he was sure that if she hadn’t turned away he might have glimpsed her blushing.

“Anyhow, shall we be off?” He smiled, securing his knapsack and linking his arm with hers.

“As you wish, my lady.”

____

Her father was slow to warm up to Jacques, but he was nothing if not persistent. Patience watched Jacques return every morning from her window, standing on the cobblestone street as he begged her father to accept him. When her father turned him away yet again, she would bring him lunch and sit on the steps together, or they would go for a walk in the town and she would buy him a sweet for his journey home to the friary. The villagers looked on warily at first, and the merchants often stopped to ask her if he was bothering her. She didn’t think they made such an odd couple, but the villagers surely saw differently. They enjoyed one another’s company.

Finally, on the day before their last in town, as Patience was packing her belongings in anticipation for the ride home early the next morning, she heard the voices of Jacques and her father drift in through the window once more. 

“Jacques of the Friary, you are a troublesome young man. But today, you will be rewarded for your constancy.” Patience giggled to herself at the double-meaning of that last word. “Take this back to the Brothers. Gather your worldly possessions, and be ready to leave by dawn. We will send someone for you.”

“Dr. Moffat, you shall not be disappointed! I will eagerly await our union tomorrow, and henceforth!” Patience giggled again. _Such a funny boy…_

___

Their wedding was held atop the same hill where they first met. At the reception, while her family and their friends laughed and made merry, they sat together enjoying their wine. 

“Frère Jacques

Frère Jacques

Dormez-vous?

Dormez-vous?

Sonnez les matines

Sonnez les matines

Ding, ding, dong.

Ding, ding, dong,” she sang. He nuzzled her neck, and she giggled. He would never tire of that laugh, or the sweet scent of her hair, or the way her arms curled perfectly around him. Little Miss Moffat, indeed.


End file.
